


Alike

by robert_downey_jr



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I know that this isn't canon but what are rules, Kissing, Let me get a female fuckin Witcher pls, One Shot, Violence, monster hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robert_downey_jr/pseuds/robert_downey_jr
Summary: Veila has lived a life of secrecy with being the first female Witcher. She's resigned on a life of the Path and waiting for the last final battle she'd fight in. However, when a woman with magical abilities offers her one final fight worth being in, Veila realizes that the world holds much more than she realized.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably a one-shot but I hope you can enjoy it at least.

She was a paradox. Something that should have never been born. She was a blind spot in the world’s eye. A thing that had never been whispered and only ever treated with disbelief. There was no one like her, no one to understand what she’d gone through—no one that cared enough to listen. There was only flickering images of people that were no longer in her life.

 

Veila used to be someone—something before she had been taken and shoved into a mold. She’d been thrown through hellfire and back, melting and hardening into the shape that was deemed adequate. Then she was made into a warrior, a fleet-footed and sharp eyed fighter that slaughtered anything that came charging her way.

 

She had been given a Path to follow, a life that was guaranteed to her with gold and death following her like the plague. Her trail was one that was swept away from history, no matter the good deeds she did. No one spoke her name, there were no stories to be told, no bards to sing of her fighting. Because she was born into a world where no one could handle the truth.

 

Veila walked into a bustling tavern in the middle of a run-down town that was wiped off the maps. She kept her swords sheathed and her hood drawn over her face as she moved through the crowd of people. They seemed to swarm around the center of the room, another fist-fight was breaking out and bets were being held. She had no interest, her body ached and her head was heavy.

 

There was nothing that this town could offer her other than food and a bed to sleep in. Which was better than the dusty road that was always waiting for her. Veila dropped down into the nearest table and waved a wench down. A brunette wandered over to her and tipped her head in greetings.

 

“What can I do you for?”

 

“The strongest alcohol you have and a plate full of food.” Veila was quick to speak, her eyes were narrowed on the splintered wood in front of her.

 

“Alright, that’ll be—“

 

Veila slapped a handful of coins in front of the wench. “Keep the food coming my way and you can keep the entire amount.”

 

She heard the sounds of the coins being snatched from the table. The wench probably hadn’t seen that many coins in all her working life. But that was normal pay for someone that hunted like she did. Coin was always flowing into her hands as long as she did her job correctly.

 

There was a female bard singing in the corner of the room but her voice was being drowned out from the fighters in the center of the room. Veila kept her ears concentrated on the woman’s melody, it was something she could focus on while she waited.

 

Before she knew it someone had thrown themselves into the same table she was sitting out. It was a woman by the weight, she surmised. A drunkard was the best possibility. However, when the body’s shadow turned directly in front of her, she realized she was wrong.

 

“You are lost.” Veila spoke calmly.

 

“So are you.” The voice said back.

 

Veila’s nails dug into the hard wood. “You don’t understand who you’re speaking to.”

 

“Oh, I’d wager that I do.” The woman’s husky voice said, she heard a hint of mischief in the undertones of her voice. “I’m speaking to the first mutated female Witcher.”

 

Veila picked her head up and met eyes to a striking woman with snow white hair and fluorescent green eyes. The scar slashed down the side of her face had caught her attention but it was the two swords on her back that had caught her eye.

 

Veila could feel that this woman was different. There was something in this woman’s blood that was buzzing with life. Something stronger than what she’d ever felt before. Her medallion was humming against her chest.  

 

“Who are you?”

 

Ciri gave a small smile. “Someone just like you.”


End file.
